The more Parker thought about it, the more shit started clicking together, piece by damn piece, like a puzzle he hadn't even realized he was solving.
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From the whole Celestial Threads thing to this bizarre-ass Plunder ability—everything was stacking up. And then there was his aunt Helena, the walking, talking enigma herself, sohow even more dangerous than Robert Voidhowl. The system couldn't even figure her out. Like, how powerful did you have to be for the system to tap out?
And now this. A minute ago, he'd just uncovered that the Nyxilith weren't just so random supernatural clan—they were the family.
The uncrowned rulers of the entire Ether Community, like royalty moving in the shadows while the other original families played house in their fancy mansions. Did that explain why his aunts' nas were completely wiped from every traceable record, like they never existed? Hell yeah, it did.
But what the fuck did that make him?
The realization was sinking in, heavy, uncomfortable. Parker Nyxilith Black. No longer just so overly rich kid. No longer a nobody from LA. He was apparently born into so ancient magical dynasty, and the whole damn supernatural world probably knew it—everyone but him.
And the system? The system had the nerve to add the na to his status without a single damn warning.
This was a lot. Too much. Parker shut his laptop, slumping back in his chair with a frustrated groan as he rubbed his temples. His mind was spiraling, looping between panic and a strange, thrilling sense of power. Was this what being a bigshot felt like? Or was it just the pressure squeezing his chest tighter the longer he thought about it?
Did he even want to be part of this? He had no idea. Not yet. Not until he knew everything—the whole truth. He was hella sure he wasn't even welcod in any of this given how his aunt treated him. And to be honest? It would be better if he kept himself away from this, as long as this little peace could permit.
Exhaling sharply, Parker folded his arms on the desk and let his head drop, resting against his forearm. Fuck it. Maybe if he just stayed like this for a while, his brain would cool off. He wasn't in the mood for answers anymore. Two hours straight—yeah, that sounded good.
But, of course, the system couldn't let him have peace.
[Ding! Main Mission Generated!]
Mission: Find who you are.
Rewards: The Lost Legacy and the Forgotten Path!]
His eyes snapped open, glaring at the glowing text in front of him. Blank face. No reaction. No questions. Not even a damn eyebrow raise.
"Yeah, yeah…sure," he muttered, dismissing the screen with a flick of his fingers like it was so annoying popup ad. He wasn't about to let the system jerk him around with so cryptic quest. Not right now.
But curiosity gnawed at him, so he whispered, "Status."
The screen reappeared, and once again, there it was. That na. Nyxilith. Right there between his first and last na.
And his race? The system still had a fucking question mark next to it. Human? Like it didn't even know what he was anymore.
He sat back, fists clenched as he stared at the words, heat building behind his eyes. 'Curses.'
Whatever. He shoved that aside, forcing his focus on the rest. His power level was still Harmonic, Tier 2, the sa as before. No sudden boosts. Telekinesis hadn't budged either. But the Shadow Manipulation Bond was definitely different—it had climbed to Tier 2 thanks to the SP he had fed it, and the system had reclassified it as a superpower, not just so skill.
Probably because of how versatile it was getting. Whatever. He'd take it.
The abilities and skills section was cramd now, way more compact than before, like the system was being lazy with space. Soulspire, Shadow Leap, Sinking, Master, True Word, Dream—all clumped together like a damn checklist.
And then there was Plunder.
That one was still labeled Unknown. But it was…personal. Like it wasn't just so inherited ability but sothing that belonged only to him. The idea gnawed at him, exciting and unnerving all at once.
If this was just the beginning, how many more secrets were waiting to be unlocked as a Nyxilith?
His stats had shot up too—Strength: 20, Agility: 22, Stamina: 19—yet there was no mission completion for the mission the system had given him, no flashy reward for all the insane progress he'd made. He was supposed to receive the mission completion reward.
The system was holding back on him, and he knew it.
"Yeah, we'll deal with that later…"
Then ca the real kicker.
Corruption/Purity: 100% Evil, 90% Devil (when provoked) 15% Antihero
Parker blinked, reading it twice. What the hell?
When had that happened? He didn't rember feeling… that evil. Sure, he'd wrecked Robert Voidhowl social status after Robert himself nearly wrecked him, but this? 100%? And 90% devil? He wasn't exactly out here plotting world domination or anything.
Or maybe you are? whispered a voice in his head.
No. No way.
But the longer he stared at the screen, the more it made sense. Maybe this wasn't just about what he'd done but who—what—he was becoming. Had he changed? Or was the system just finally showing the truth?
Either way, he wasn't exactly mad about it.
Parker smirked. Yeah, he could live with that.
Hours passed, and Parker hadn't moved from the library. He stayed slouched at the sa desk, the only sound around him the occasional shuffle of pages and the quiet hum of the overhead lights. He hadn't gone back to class—couldn't be bothered. His brain was still spinning from the whole Nyxilith bombshell, and honestly, math class felt a bit pointless when you were apparently so ancient magical heir with shadow powers and a bloodline powerful enough to make the system glitch.
When his stomach finally growled loud enough to cut through his little sleep two hours later, he exhaled sharply, locking his phone to leave. The library felt colder than when he'd first arrived, or maybe that was just him. Either way, he needed food.
Just as he pushed open the heavy oak doors, his phone buzzed in his hand.
Naomi: Boss, I'm waiting at your classroom.
Parker blinked, thumb hovering over the keyboard before tapping back a quick reply.
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